


Not Feeling It

by Emily_MC, marian93



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, I promise, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, briefly, i dont even know anymore, my first porn, they love each other even if they dont say it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5287007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_MC/pseuds/Emily_MC, https://archiveofourown.org/users/marian93/pseuds/marian93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John forces Sherlock to come with him to Greg's for his birthday party. But when John asks for his help, to get rid of a flirtatious woman he doesn't expect the result. Neither of them are prepared for the outcome.</p><p>((This started as an rp on Omegle.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Feeling It

_John, this party is boring. SH_  
Why are we here? SH  
  
**Because it’s Lestrade’s birthday and we promised. Now stop texting me and talk to people. JW**  
  
_The only people here capable of holding an intelligent conversation are you and Lestrade. Lestrade is what you might call “trashed” and you are nowhere to be found. SH_  
_Where are you? SH_  
  
**Bathroom. Give me a moment, for Christ’s sake, I’ve been out of your sight all of three minutes. JW**  
**And he has a right to be trashed, it’s his birthday. JW**

 _Five minutes. SH_  
_There is a woman standing near the loo. She’s waiting for you to get out so she can flirt with you. SH_

 **What, really? JW**  
  
_Yes. She walked over there shortly after you and she’s checked her hair and makeup three times in the reflection of her phone. SH_  
_Four times. SH_

 

**Is she good looking? JW**

_Beauty is a social construct. SH  
Also. Not my area. SH_

 

 **Right. Well. Bit of an odd place to flirt, the bathroom. I feel like I should wash my hands again or something. JW**  


_She’s not going to flirt with you in the bathroom. Outside of it. SH_  
_Ridiculous. I’m sure you’re perfectly presentable. SH_  


**Spilled wine on my shirt. Why didn’t you tell me? JW**  
Look, I don’t think I feel like flirting tonight. Could you maybe go scare her off? Be yourself and all that. JW  
  
_I thought that’s why you went to the loo. To clean your shirt. SH_  
_You’re sure? SH_  
  
**I had to piss. And yeah, I’m sure. Not feeling it tonight. JW**

 

Sherlock tucked his phone into his coat pocket and smirked slightly. He was extremely bored and had come up with a plan to perhaps get back at John for forcing him to attend this dreadful party. As he walked across the room, he saw John uncomfortably standing in the hallway to the bathroom with the blonde woman. He grinned and approached them, casually but pointedly sliding an arm around John’s waist and kissing his cheek. “Hello, love.” He purred, looking at the woman.

John hadn’t even finished breathing a sigh of relief at seeing Sherlock approaching, when the arsehole kissed his cheek and all the air froze in John’s lungs. _Absolute. Bloody. Bastard._ He tried to recover quickly, mentally cursing Sherlock for all he was worth, and cleared his throat before giving the woman a tight smile. He turned to Sherlock, his fake smile stretching his face uncomfortably, and glared at him while gritting out a weak, “Hey, d-darling.” God, he was going to kill him.

John’s reaction made Sherlock grin, and chuckle softly. “I thought I’d lost you there for a while, my dear.” He said with a small mock pout. The woman, who was some sort of employee for the Yard, receptionist, he thought, looked between them shocked and Sherlock tightened his grip on John’s hip. “You two are..?” she started, clearly disappointed and disbelieving. The detective wondered what John would say in response.

 

This was decidedly _not_ what John had wanted Sherlock to do. He had hoped the detective, in a mood as he was, would sweep in and deduce something embarrassing about the woman. She’d be outraged, John would be reluctantly (falsely) apologetic, and she would storm off in a huff.  The he could go back to his wine with Sherlock, listening to his friend whine about everything and everyone while secretly enjoying John’s halfhearted reproaches. Course, with Sherlock, it was never what John expected. This was payback of some sort, John knew. For leaving him alone for seven minutes, probably. God, Sherlock was like a bloody cat, scratching the furniture whenever their owner stepped out of the house. Fine. If he wanted to play this game, John would teach him.

He relaxed his face and posture, lifting a hand to curl around Sherlock’s nape. “Yeah,” he said to the woman. He wasn’t too broken up about it, really. He hadn’t really wanted to talk to her, after all. “We are.” He smiled sweetly at Sherlock, hoping the detective could see the silent threat in his eyes. _I’m going to get you back for this, you arse._

Sherlock noted the challenge in his eyes and sent back a look that clearly said _bring it on._ He could handle anything John threw at him with grace. “We most definitely are.” He agreed, looking back to the woman, whose name might have been Amy…or Janet? Laura? Something boring like that. She looked skeptically at them. “Since when? Last I heard you weren’t.” she said, more disbelief on her face.

Shit. John felt a pang of anger flare inside him. Who the hell was this lady to tell him who he was or wasn’t dating? Actual relationship status notwithstanding, what did she know? He turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “Heard from whom?” he asked shortly. “I would think the best source would be the people actually involved.” He added, curling his fingers more firmly around Sherlock’s nape.

A small, involuntary shiver ran down Sherlock’s spine as John’s fingers tightened, tugging slightly on his hair. He was surprised to hear how… _angry_ John sounded. And almost… _possessive_? He said nothing, just watching the proceeding curiously, and trying to hide his reaction to John’s touch. Amy/Janet/Laura rolled her eyes, also a bit mad now. “I’ve heard you say it!” she pointed out stubbornly. “Just a few weeks ago.”

John didn’t remember her at all. He almost felt bad, except she was being incredibly rude. What was it to her, anyway? “Really, that’s funny,” he gave a brief smile, the type that he usually used on Sherlock, the one that made him clean up whatever mess he’d made immediately. “It’s almost like things can happen in a few weeks’ time. Odd notion, I know. I’ll give you a moment to take it in.”

Sherlock was shocked. John was almost _rude_ to her, something he normally chastised Sherlock for. He almost smiled with pride. She huffed and crossed her arms, knowing that John had a point but she was stubborn, and angrier now that she had been made to look stupid. “I just don’t believe you. No one would want to date the freak, everyone knows that.” She sneered.

Oh. Oh, that was it. John had always hated that word, especially directed at Sherlock. She’d said exactly the right thing for John to be completely done with the conversation. He regarded her for a moment, head tilted slightly to the side. The nerve. “I don’t care,” he paused, gave her a pointed look to make sure she really understood, “if you don’t believe me. I think we’re done here.” He turned to Sherlock, gave him a small smile that felt more loving than it probably needed to be. “Don’t listen to her, love.”

Sherlock took in the woman’s affronted face before she stormed away. He didn’t speak, ad looked away from John. That would wasn’t supposed to hurt anymore. He’d spent hours training himself not to feel affected by it. And it worked…usually. Sometimes it cut through. Especially when someone called him it in front of John…and in this case it hit a little close to home. John wouldn’t want him. Because he was a freak.

John was reluctant to drop his hand from Sherlock’s neck, but he knew the ruse was over. Still, he took his time, and didn’t let it fall completely, just lowered it to the middle of Sherlock’s back. He paused for a moment, then deadpanned: “That went well.”

Sherlock forced himself to act unaffected and let out a small hum of agreement. “Not quite as well as anticipated.” He admitted. “I was rather hoping she’d leaving gracefully.” He shrugged, and stepped just slightly closer to John, enjoying the continued contact.

John had to laugh a bit. “That,” he pointed at the end of the corridor, where the woman had disappeared back into the party. “Was anything but graceful. Sorry you had to deal with that, I should have just dealt with it and made awkward conversation instead of dragging you into it.” He sighed, patting Sherlock’s back twice and meaning to drop his hand but….not dropping it.

“No apology necessary. It was an interesting way to exercise my acting skills, if nothing else.” He said, smiling gently. John had a way of making him feel better, just by existing. He wasn’t sure what to do now though. “I’m sorry I did…that instead of just annoying her away.” He said a bit awkwardly.

“No it’s fine.” Never mind that he had wanted to kill him when he first started. Now he felt angry and out of sorts, but it wasn’t directed at Sherlock. “She deserved being messed with. “He said, shaking his head in disbelief at how intrusive the woman had been. “God, I should have just snogged you, that would have shut her up.”

Sherlock stiffened. He couldn’t deny the flash of disappointment that John hadn’t done exactly that. He tried to play it casually. “Oh, I’m sure it would have. Too bad.” He said, shrugging in attempted nonchalance. John dropped his hand, suddenly self-conscious about what he’d said. He’d meant it as a joke. Maybe. Yes. Of course he did. Well. It would have…it would have been good to see the look on her face. But it was over now. He chuckled down at his shoes. “Yeah well. Not something one should do just to prove a point.”

The detective swallowed and nodded. He suddenly realized they were alone in the corridor, the party going on in the room on the other side of the wall. “Of course. Only if one wants to.” He agreed, voice soft.

John suddenly felt flushed and tingly. Had he drank too much wine? He looked up at Sherlock, and cleared his throat, shifting a bit on his feet. They were still standing far too close, considering there was no one to put on a show for. “Yeah. I mean. Would have been quite funny to see her face. But it’s not like we had to prove we’re dating, y’know. What was it to her anyway? It was none of her business, it’s none of _anyone’s_ business, really.” He stopped, realizing he was rambling a bit. His collar felt itchy, his neck and ears hot.

Sherlock observed John, noticing how nervous he seemed. “No. It’s no one’s business but ours.” He breathed. His hands twitched slightly, wanting to touch John, but not knowing in what way. John felt his lower stomach tightening in a familiar way. He swallowed, looking at Sherlock’s face from up close. They usually kept their distance, and now he could see every line and pale freckle. Sherlock’s lips were oddly shaped and John couldn’t stop looking at them, why was that? “No it’s…ours.” He mumbled in agreement, looking up at Sherlock’s eyes and feeling suddenly unsure. What was happening? _Was_ something happening? Something was happening. John just didn’t know what. He could smell Sherlock’s cologne from this distance, and his stomach tightened again.

Sherlock watched John’s eyes trace his face, linger on his lips and he has _no idea_ what’s happening. He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt this clueless. But John, his conductor of light, his best and only friend. He’s struck by how much he wants this. Slowly his hand reaches out to rest on John’s hip, and the contact helps. “John…” he whispered.

 _Okay, something is definitely happening,_ John thought. He swallowed a few times, blinking down at the hand on his hip. Long fingers. John felt a flush rise to his face and he closed his eyes, embarrassed and turned on and embarrassed about being turned on. But mostly just helpless. Helplessly wanting. His hands moved to wrap around Sherlock’s waist, eyes open just enough to see what he was doing, but not rising from Sherlock’s seventh or eighth button.

This had to be a sign of acceptance from John, right? He wasn’t shoving him away, wasn’t telling him no. His face was red, his pulse elevated, and Sherlock wasn’t sure he was breathing. He decided right then, there was no going back. His free hand came up and gently cupped John’s face, and he leaned in the surprising small distance to bring their lips together.

 

Oh. Well, that was a good thing. John hadn’t had to look Sherlock in the eye. One moment he was staring at a too-tight shirt, the next he was closing his eyes at the feel of Sherlock’s hand on his face. And then…then his eyes were rolling back behind his eyelids and he sighed against Sherlock’s cheek, maybe making a small noise but he couldn’t be sure with the rush of blood in his ears.  One hand left Sherlock’s waist to grip at Sherlock’s shoulder because he feared he would fall. His lips moved against Sherlock’s and _yeah, that was definitely a noise. God, how did he ever think he didn’t want this?_

Sherlock relaxed against him as he returned the kiss, sighing and parting his lips just slightly. This was everything. This was every good feeling John had ever provided him all combined plus the simply amazing feeling of John’s lips and hands on him. His arm slid around John’s waist to pull his body against his own.

They were in a hallway. People would come to use the bathroom. They should…they should stop. John was going to tell Sherlock to stop. Sherlock parted his lips, and John very firmly did not tell him to stop. Instead he hummed and fit his upper lip further between Sherlock’s, mouthing at Sherlock’s plump lower lip and lightly tracing his tongue just inside his mouth.

And embarrassingly desperate-sounding noise fell from Sherlock’s lips as he parted them further and allowed John’s tongue inside. His thumb stroked over John’s cheek as his own tongue brushed his. _How had he gone any length of time without this? God, what did this mean? To John?_

 

If they didn’t stop, John was going to shag him right there in the hallway. But he dragged it on a bit further, enjoying the noise Sherlock made very much and wanting a few more out of him. John couldn’t help grunting a bit as Sherlock’s tongue circled his, and his hand slid up from Sherlock’s shoulder to his hair, tangling in and gripping the curls. Not hard, not pulling, just enough to feel the handful between his fingers. Sherlock moaned, arousal pooling in his stomach. John’s thigh slipped between the taller man’s and he moaned, deepening the kiss and then grazing his teeth over his lip before forcing himself to pull away. Sherlock chased his lips, never wanting this to end. John shook his head.

“We,” his voice rasped and he had to clear his throat, tried again. “We should stop, Sherlock. It’s, uh, the hallway, and frankly…I really can’t be held accountable for my actions if we don’t stop, so. We should.”

Sherlock was surprised by John’s words, and felt another spark of arousal. Was it possible John wanted him as much as he wanted John? He took a moment to breathe but decided he couldn’t stop. Not yet. If this was his only chance…he wouldn’t miss out. He took John’s hand and tugged him a few feet to a door, which he knew led to Lestrade’s room. He didn’t open the door, just looking at John for a moment. “Your choice, John.” He breathed.

 _Oh my God. No, no, we can’t. It’s Greg’s birthday for Christ’s sake._ John thought, rubbing his face and looking down at the floor so he didn’t have to look at Sherlock’s expression, eager and dangerous and so fucking alluring. Of course, lowering his eyes only put…other things in his field of vision and he groaned. Fuck. He could see the outline of….fuck. Well. Greg could pass out on his couch. It was a nice couch. John need his room and he needed it badly. Right now.

He looked up at Sherlock and turned the door handle, eyes never leaving Sherlock’s. This was it. Sherlock grinned and tugged John into the room, slamming the door closed a bit harder than he meant to and pushing John against it. He took John’s lips in a hungry kiss, hands pining John’s hips to the door. Their bodies were pressed closely together, and Sherlock could feel _everything._

Yes. This was perfect. John moaned into the kiss, the darkness and privacy of the room making him bold. He dragged his hands up Sherlock’s arms and down his sides to grip at his waist, then around to his lower back…then lower. Not quite where he wanted them to be, palms just over the belt loops of Sherlock’s trousers, but low enough to let Sherlock know his intentions. In response Sherlock let go of John’s hips and moved his fingers to the back of John’s head. John readjusted his legs to slot a thigh between Sherlock’s, feeling him pressed against his groin. _Fuck_. He couldn’t help the roll of his hips or the hiss that escaped him.

“Jesus, Sherlock…” he breathed, breaking their kiss, only to feel Sherlock start sucking down his jaw to his neck. “Christ.” He was incredibly hard, and he rocked his hips against Sherlock’s thigh again. Suddenly this wasn’t enough.

Sherlock groaned as John’s thigh rubbed against him through his trousers and he stopped his trail down John’s neck. “Bed. Now.” he growled in his ear instead. John’s knees almost went weak at his tone and he was quick to follow him as he pulled away. He grabbed Sherlock by the shoulder, spun him around and set him on the bed, immediately climbing up to straddle his thighs. Their still annoyingly clothed groins were much closer this way and they both moaned as they resumed their kiss.

John broke the kiss again after a few moments of frantic snogging and grinding. “Shirt.” He murmured, starting on the buttons of Sherlock’s dress shirt. “Off.” Sherlock groaned his agreement and undid the cuffs, and together they got the shirt off and onto the floor.

John’s couldn’t take the time to analyze Sherlock’s bare chest, as much as he wanted too. He was too desperate. Instead he quickly tore his own shirt over his head and leaned down to kiss across Sherlock’s collarbone. He sucked a quick bruise onto the left one and relished the sort of whimper Sherlock let out.

Sherlock meanwhile had kicked off his shoes, and was frantically trying to undo John’s trousers. “Need more.” He panted out, tugging John’s belt through the loops of his jeans. Then he roughly pulled the button undone and the zip down. John climbed off of him and stood, and within seconds Sherlock was knelt on the bed in front of him and had pushed the jeans down to the floor. With a smirk John stepped out of them and pushed Sherlock onto his back on the mattress. He crawled over him, not touching him for a moment.

“God, look at you.” He purred, leaning his head down to nip his ear and lick a small trail on his neck. “You are…gorgeous.” Sherlock whimpered softly again, a desperate sound and John’s hips rocked down of their own accord. They both moaned and John forced himself to lift his body back up away from the detectives. “Listen…Sherlock…” he said breathlessly. “How- How far do you want this to go?”

Sherlock propped himself up on his elbows so their faces were almost touching. “As far as you want.” He whispered. “I want you.” He slid his hands up John’s arms. “All of you.”

John groaned as the detective’s hands trailed down his back to rest on his ass, squeezed, and pushed until his now-uncovered cock rubbed against Sherlock’s, still in his trousers. “Shit…” he breathed. “Your pants- why are they on?”

With a low chuckle Sherlock rolled them over so he was straddling John, and rose up on his knees. With a seductive smirk he slowly unzipped his trousers, revealing his black pants. John was torn between reaching up to do it faster and watching those completely sinful hands do it themselves. Eventually his desire to touch won and he reached up, palming Sherlock through his pants as soon as the trousers had been pushed to his thighs.

Sherlock moaned softly and his head fell back. “Oh, John...” he whispered, and he quickly stood and divested himself of his remaining clothing. Then, he climbed back on top of John, and resumed snogging him with more passion than John thought him capable.

Both of them now completely naked, their cock’s rubbed against each other tauntingly with every rock of Sherlock’s hips. John groaned and gripped his hipbones tightly as he tried to rock up to meet him. “Not enough.” He growled, and once again flipped them over. “Now. Tell me…what you want.”

The detective was flushed, eyes bright and a bit hazy. “I- I want you to fuck me.” He breathed in a rush. “God, please, John.” John felt a pulse of arousal through his entire body and he nodded quickly. “Yes, God, yes.” He agreed, and reached over to fumble in Greg’s bedside drawer. When he couldn’t find anything remotely resembling lube, or condoms for that matter, he groaned and cursed Greg Lestrade.

He looked down at Sherlock. “We can’t.” he said, clear disappointment in his eyes. “Lestrade is clearly going through a dry spell.” Sherlock groaned as well, clearly annoyed. “What good is he then? Remind me to yell at him later.”

John chuckled and leaned down, sucking lightly on his neck. “Mmm. I think knowing we were both in his bed, having sex, is punishment enough, don’t you?” he murmured into his ear. “Besides…there’s still plenty of things I can do to you, without supplies.”

Sherlock shivered softly. “Please, John…anything.” He whispered. John grinned and kissed him quickly on the mouth before beginning to trail kisses down his neck and chest. He felt Sherlock’s breathing speed up, and heard a soft whine of realization when he started sucking on his hipbone. “Yes, please…”

John nodded and slowly licked down the crease of his thigh and groin, then raised his head. Tentatively he ran his tongue over the head of Sherlock’s cock, and Sherlock moaned, louder than before. Encouraged, John repeated the action, surer, more firm, this time. He licked around the entire head, slowly, taking in the taste of Sherlock.

When the moans didn’t stop, he smirked and parted his lips, taking in just the head and sucking lightly. “Fuck, John!” came the cry from the detective, and he moaned in return, which caused Sherlock to whine and arch his back. Taking a deep breath, John slowly sunk his mouth down Sherlock’s cock, until he couldn’t take anymore. It wasn’t the whole length, but John felt it a reasonable amount for his first try with Sherlock.

Sherlock groaned again, and his hands twitched against the sheets. “Yes, John.” He breathed, unable to process the amazing feeling. Then…John pulled up, and began slowly bobbing his head and Sherlock was dying. He was sure. Because nothing had ever felt so amazing.

John moved his tongue as he also moved his mouth, and Sherlock was groaning and cursing above him, and it was bliss. He loved providing Sherlock with this pleasure. After one particularly deep moan, he felt his own cock twitch and pulled off. Sherlock whined in disappointment. But John needed to come, badly.

Giving the leaking tip of his cock one last lick, John crawled back up the detective’s long body until their cocks were again lined up. He pulled Sherlock’s mouth to his and they kissed heatedly. “Good?” he breathed. Sherlock could only nod, breathless at the taste of himself on John’s mouth.

John grinned and ground his cock against Sherlock’s, both of them moaning. Sherlock rolled his up at the same time, and John trembled. “Fuck, Sherlock..” he groaned, and repeated the action. They fell into a rhythm, cursing and panting into each other’s mouths as they tried to continue kissing while rutting against each other like horny teenagers. Eventually, Sherlock moved one large hand from John’s hip and wrapped it around their slick lengths, and _oh that was so much better_. John moaned and sucked hard on his jaw, continuing to rock his hips into Sherlock’s hand.

“I- I’m close, John. You feel…so good.” Sherlock panted out, and God, John was too. He nodded and sped up the pump of his hips, as did Sherlock.

“Come on, love. Come for me. You feel so good under me. Want you to come. Then...” he purred with intention into his ear. “Then I’ll take you home, and I’ll fuck you like you wanted.”

With another rock of his hips and a loud moan of John’s name, Sherlock came, spilling over his fingers and John’s own cock. John cursed as Sherlock let go, only to wrap his fingers around John alone and begin pumping his hand quickly. “Fuck- _fuck,_ Sherlock, almost…oh God, I’m so close.”

A few moments later, John fell over the edge, crying out a breathless, “Yes, Sherlock!” He collapsed on top of his lover, head in his shoulder and bodies pressed together.

“That was…not how I expected that woman flirting with you would end up.” Sherlock said, after a silence long enough for their bodies to cool slightly. John snorted and buried his face further into Sherlock’s neck, curling their bodies together.

Eventually, John pulled his face out and propped himself up on one arm to look down at Sherlock in the moonlight from the window. “You are gorgeous.” He whispered, stroking his cheek with his free hand. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much, as badly, as I want you.”

Sherlock smiled and leaned up on his elbows to kiss him sweetly. “Let’s go home.” He suggested. “After all, you have a promise to keep.” John grinned widely and within ten minutes they were messily dressed and snogging in the back of a cab.

 

The next morning, John was awoken to the loud vibrations of his phone on the floor, still inside his coat pocket. He groaned and reached down for it, trying not to disturb the still somehow sleeping detective next to him. He made contact with the device, and triumphantly pulled it to his face. It was a text from Greg.

 

_Next time you guys want to shag, please do me a favour and leave my bloody house first. Or at least stay away from my bed. –G_

 

John chuckled and the small amount of guilt he felt melted away as Sherlock snuffled lightly in his sleep and curled himself around John, kissing his ear. He didn’t regret a single thing from that night.

**Author's Note:**

> My first (published) porn!  
> This started as an Omegle roleplay with marian93. but hopefully I made it flow a bit better. Comments and (friendly) criticisms welcome.  
> Thank you for all of the kudos!!


End file.
